


Filii Neidhardi

by Lyriumsong (Hinata_Akiama)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Belly Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinata_Akiama/pseuds/Lyriumsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The seasons are shifting, and the Inquisitor's Clan celebrates. The Inquisitor invites some of her close Inner Circle to the festivities, and she shows Solas that she's a woman in her own right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filii Neidhardi

**Author's Note:**

> This is a steamy piece that a friend of mine helped spur me into doing. I've been a bellydancer for many years, and it just seemed like something this particular Lavellan of mine would be into. Plus, I love sticking Solas in difficult situations. Suggested listening would be https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UIHMwk4SJs which is where the title gets it's namesake.

Drums pounded out a slow and sensual rhythm, tambourines clattering in time with the dancers as they moved their way around the large bonfire in the middle of the giant circle around the Dalish camp.

It was the time of year for the celebrations and joyful occasions of the Dalish, and Kinnat’s clan had come down from the Free Marches to camp nearby Skyhold so that their First could attend the gathering.

Kinnat had invited those closest to her down to the Dalish camp to observe her traditions, if they would be respectful to her People on this night. They had been placed in an area of honor, right behind and to the right of the musicians, giving them a clear view of the dances, and partaking of the feast of food being passed around by Kinnat’s clansmen.

Solas sighed a little bit as he rubbed the back of his neck, frowning tightly. Kinnat and himself did not get along much yet, the Inquisition barely out of it’s infancy and both of them still relatively at one another’s necks. There was the edge of what could be around each of their interactions, and he was fascinated by the pure energy in which she went about her life. She was. . Kinnat was beautiful to behold, much as a violent storm is. But she also showed a profound wisdom and could hold her temper when absolutely needed, always - in the end - playing peacekeeper.

She was an important part of it, their Inquisitor, playing The Dread Wolf. Each dance told a story, from the Fall of Arlathan, the death of Halamshiral, or the wars between Gods. Even though she would be the focus of some of the later dances for the night, it had been surprising to see just how late their Inquisitor had stepped into the firelight. The moon was high and full, hanging in the sky like a drop of dew on a laden leaf, already starting it’s descent to the horizon.

Kinnat’s hair had been carefully wound up into hundreds of small braids that clacked and rippled with glass beads, bone decorations, feathers, and even painted in parts to mimic the fur of the Wolf. A cowl rested over her head, her eyes peering through the wolf’s skull mask, it’s paws resting over her meager breasts, the tail swinging behind her. Her arms where covered in sleeves of wolf’s fur, which attached to her biceps with carved bone bangles that showed wolves running in the snow, their eyes painted red. The sweeping sleeves rested over her knuckles, nearly hiding her thumb from view. A necklace of wolf’s teeth hung from her neck, ending in a wolf’s jaw that hung between her breasts, clattering with the decoration on the scraps of cloth hiding her breasts from view.

Solas gave a start when he recognized the paint on the jaw, distinctive patterns that he remembered painting on one of his own jaws a few days ago. She must have sneaked it off of his desk while he was busy painting the Rotunda.

Thick pelts where layered from her belt, resting right over her crotch and leaving her hips bared, vine-like tattoos adding some colour to her wild-almond toned skin. The other benefit to having her hips open was showing off her powerful thighs and calves, skin near-glowing in the light of the fire. The rest of the furs and brilliant cottons rested over her ass, the only plush thing on her, rippling and shifting with each movement of her bare feet on the rain-drenched forest floor.

An anklet of small, seed-sided silver bells gave her a musical step, her heavy coin-laden belt doing the same with every roll and shimmy of her hips, as she walked out to stand directly in front of the musicians. Long strands of beads and gems hung from her belt, draping over the bared skin on her thighs and hips, clacking softly in time with the coins on her belt.

Her torso was only covered by two thin scraps of leather that covered each breast, tied at her back and behind her neck. From the scraps of leather, long braids of beads and delicate chain looped from each piece of the nearly-indecent bodice, creating a jangling web of decoration over her dark stomach, contrasting with the white swirls that had been painted on. Her back was hidden by the wolf’s cowl that draped over her, but from time to time, there would be a movement that forced the wolf pelt to sway to the side, exposing the dark tattoo that covered her back.

Solas was stunned as he took in her outfit, his violet eyes wide as his mouth gaped open softly. The wolf, a wolf. . Kinnat was this Clan’s connection to Fen’harel. She was their Dread Wolf in flesh, and tonight, it echoed in every way she moved. The leashed power, the compact movements, how her feet trained right in front of one another, hips swaying with every rocking step. Her eyes, caught behind the cowl and looking at him from the wolf’s eye sockets, found his own and pinned him, the burnt green heated in a way that made Solas’ blood boil.

Solas clenched one hand into a fist, rubbing the tip of his fingers into the centre of his palm, willing himself to get under control. Creators, he could handle a simple dance, no? A simple woman with as simple job, in a story full of misrepresentation. The knowledge that she was -his- though. . her life devoted to him was almost like a douse of cold water, cooling his burgeoning erection before it even really started going. She was his slave, and that was something Solas could not abide.

Kinnat’s eyes bored into his own, lined in thick kohl that brought out the burnt brown along the outer corona of her eye, making the green a more yellow-toned than it’s normal grassy colour. Everything about her hooded expression demanded that he meet her eyes, demanded to be acknowledged and valued for what she was - a moving work of art. A woman of her own power.

Both arms raised above her head, and more elves filtered in around her, echoing her raised-arm posture. Her hip slowly canted down and to the side, the left pulled up with her leg straight, her right bent at the knee, showing the entire leg from under the heavy furs, and hip in a diagonal angle down. The drummers started to pound away on their drums, and Kinnat twisted around, putting her back to Solas and most of the rest of her clansmen, staring at the other elves that would partake in the dance with her.

As soon as the stringed instrument joined in with the drums, all of the elves turned and moved so that they surrounded Kinnat, facing inward towards her, their movements following her own. She slowly rolled her belly, her ribs smoothing back, followed by her belly button, then her hips, in one long, sensuous motion. The Dalish woman’s head dropped back to her shoulders, going slack like she was giving her throat away to a lover, body language screaming sex and pleasure, wrapped in one.

A shudder coursed through Solas’ body. Images flashed of his teeth sinking into her neck as he thrust into her, his body covering Kinnat’s completely as they rutted like animals in heat. That was what she screamed to him now as she danced and while Solas logically knew that was how it should be, he couldn’t help but feel like it was for him.

Kinnat shimmied her hips, the group suddenly breaking away from her into two distinctive groups at the music’s change. She spun over to the side with the Elvhen Pantheon. Her hand flicked up - questioning, her lips curled into a mocking smile. Her palm flicked over to the other group, head shaking in a dismissal as she danced around and through the group. Most of the elves playing the other gods looked uncomfortable, sharing glances and mimicking conversation to one another. It was obvious that Kinnat - Fen’harel - was instigating one group against the other. Her laugh was soft, clear and bell-like as she ducked away from them, leaving the Pantheon to dance amongst one another. She flounced over to the Forgotten Ones, nearly duplicating the movements she’d done when with the Pantheon.

The whole time this dance was going on, a hard knot of want settled low in Solas’ gut, warming him from the inside out. His eyes roved over her body, so willfully put on display. He did not miss that her eyes sought his own for most of her dance, and his mind couldn’t help but be filled with images of his hands, moon-pale on her almond skin, running over her teasing hips, her strong legs. He wondered how they would fit together, if she would bruise easily, if she would mark him as her’s, as he would mark her. How she would submit, or force him to submit in return. Solas shuffled, adjusting his erection in the tight green leggings he wore.

Sera noticed his discomfort and laughed quietly at his side. “Yeah, bunch of pissarse bullshit too huh? Only thing worth lookin’ at is the Quizzy, wonder what should could do with them hips in bed, huh?” She teased Solas, yelping as he let out a small growl and pinned her with a nasty glare.

"Quiet, Sera. You disrespect her and yourself." Solas squirmed a bit in place, frowning softly and enough that his eyebrows pinched down lightly.

He hated the way this story was being told. That Fen’harel was instigating the wars, that everything was The Dread Wolf’s fault, that The Dread Wolf embodied everything dark and primal in the world. Sex, pleasure, war, anger, vitriol. But he was torn…Because in front of him was something out of the fantasies he did not allow himself to have. Kinnat, laid bare, being her most emotional self. His Inquisitor threw everything into all things in her life, but this was the first time he’d truly seen just how passionate and sexual she was.

He watched her as Kinnat coaxed both groups together, going a simple three-beat toe to heel step. She raised her arms, and then slammed them down, sending all of the elves around her to the floor as well, most of them looking at her with shock or horror, before playing out their fall into the Dreams. Kinnat twirled away from the group, moving back to where she’d started. She dipped herself down at the waist, before she threw her head back and howled, keeping an arch to her back as she slowly rose into the howl, the sound echoing through the last strings of the song. Solas shuddered at the sound, his ears twitching back and down, a faint blush curling over his cheeks and ears

Everything was silent after she’d finished, only the fire roaring breaking the spell, before her clan burst up with cheers. Kinnat laughed a bit, pulling the cowl off of her head and letting it hang atop her head, her eyes burning into Solas’ for the last time as the groups got up and hugged one another, taking a deep bow and filtering off of the dancing area.

Those eyes spoke of what he could have. Her full passion, he could own her. She would give everything, as she did with everything in her life, and he would…Solas swallowed thickly, rubbing his hands together to get some warmth back into them. He would have to do the same if he would pursue her.

Kinnat would now allow any less, and Solas was snared by her, helpless like a wolf in a trap.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more of my writing at my blog: lyriumsong.fenharel.co


End file.
